


love came along

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Asexual Character, Bullying, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, Strangers to Lovers, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, single father pete, teacher patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8529571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Pete is the single father for two boys. Patrick is Bronx's teacher. Love comes along, slowly but surely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is a new fic of mine. my goal is 20k of pure fluff and shit. i hope you all like it; please comment if you do!

Pete was nervous as he cleaned and straightened his hair, as it was naturally curly. He had a few red streaks on his black hair, which he had dyed not long ago. He was nervous to go to the first teacher-parent conference of Bronx's school. He wanted to meet his son's teacher, which Bronx had described as "really short". He, Pete, was very short himself, so he didn't expect much.

He put a purple and black hoodie on with girl's skinny jeans and sneakers. He put the hood on and checked the hour; it was 6:30 pm. He still had time to say goodbye to his little kids, call the babysitter and leave with his car.

Pete usually didn't call babysitters to do his job for him; it was usually only when he had to go to a dinner or to check up on Bronx's school. He worked from home, as he wrote books and poetry, and sold them. He got enough to pay the bills and provide for his sons, so he was happy with his job.

He closes his eyes, sighed and dialed Hayley's phone. He waited a few rings until she answered. "Hey, Hayley!" he said.

"Hey, Mr. Wentz. I got work for you tonight?"

"Yeah, got a teacher-parent conference. Come here quickly, will ya?" he could say he was good friends with Hayley; she was a senior at her high school and she had orange hair, and she took care of Bronx and Saint from time to time.

"Alright!" Hayley chirped, and with that she hung up.

Pete spent the time he had left with his boys reading them a book he found while scanning the bookshelf, and Bronx seemed to be enjoying it while Saint had fell asleep on his crib. "So, who's the main character?" he asked when he closed the book, as they had finished the first chapter.

"Alex!" Bronx answered quickly, his eyes lit up. He liked reading, but he was so loud and brutally honest that his passion for books looked quite out of place most of the time.

"Yes, good," Pete said, ruffling his son's hair. He then heard the knocking on the door of his apartment and he got up to open it. "Hey, Hayley!" the teenager was there, with a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt.

"Hey! How are the kids?"

"We were reading a book, so if you can continue with that it'd be fantastic. Saint's asleep."

"Good! He cries a lot when he's awake, so it's good that he's asleep." She grinned, and then her eyes widen. "Sorry! Was that rude?" Hayley asked immediately after, and Pete laughed it off. Hayley's posture got less tense with that.

"It's okay; two year olds can be annoying. Don't worry," Pete said, and he smiled. "I'll leave you with them now, alright?"

"Alright! See you later, Mr. Wentz!" Hayley exclaimed, and Pete closed the door behind him. He went downstairs with the elevator and then he opened the door outside.

He walked to the school; it was a fairly new school in Chicago, and it was rather small for such a big city like it. Pete looked at the brick building and smiled softly; he could definitely like it. He entered through the main door and walked through the hallways.

He wasn't very sure where to go, so he saw one of the teachers that could most definitely be the Physical Education one; he wore a CrossFit t-shirt and sunglasses, and his arms were tattered in tattoos.

"Excuse me?" he said, and when the man didn't seem to react, he moved closer to see his name tag. "Mr. Hurley?" The teacher whipped his head around.

"Yes?"

"Do you know where the teacher-parent conference is? For 1st graders?"

"Oh, yeah," Mr. Hurley said, and he pointed to a small looking classroom with a colorful tag saying '1ST GRADE' in its door. The colors seemed to be drawn by a six year old, with how sketchy and messy they were.

Pete wondered silently if Bronx had participated in that. He wasn't especially creative; he had picked up his love for reading and music, but he seemed more of a loudmouth than a painter. Leaving his questions aside, he walked to the classroom and knocked on the door three times.

When the teacher opened the door, the description of 'really short' really stuck with Pete. He had strawberry blonde hair and he had these pretty blue green eyes, and he was chubby and had sideburns.

"Hey," Pete said at a loss of words, and he heard the other adults in the room laugh. Was he blushing? God damn, it wasn't his fault this short, adorable boy was his son's teacher.

"Good afternoon. You're..." the teacher looked to a paper in his hands. "You're Mr. Wentz, aren't you?"

"The very same. What's your name?"

"Bronx hasn't told you?"

"He doesn't remember, he just described you as 'very short'." Pete laughed awkwardly and the teacher laughed too; he probably was used to his height being mentioned time and time again.

"I'm Patrick Stumph, anyway," the teacher— Patrick— told him, and Pete smiled. He was so fucking cute, and his smile and laugh were angelic. Pete didn't believe at that love at first sight bullshit, but he was definitely infatuated at first sight.

"Alright. You can call me Pete," he said, and Patrick nodded. Some people cleared their throats and Patrick shot a glance at them with an apologetic look.

"Okay, we're starting now!" Patrick said, clapping his hands together. "Who knows my name?" he asked, and only two people besides Pete— a Latino boy and a boy with curly hair and stunning blue eyes— raise their hands. "Alright, alright." He went to write something on the chalkboard and Pete noticed his handwriting was really nice and clean compared to his. "My name is Patrick, Patrick Stumph. With an 'h' at the end."

Patrick left his name on the chalkboard and wrote something more down. 'Teacher of your children' it read, and Pete smiled. "I'm twenty-five, and I have a passion for music. Besides elementary school, I teach middle schoolers music."

Pete nodded. He's thirty; he had Bronx when he was twenty-two. He looked around and saw the curly-haired man nod curtly. "I want to know you all better, too. As I want to grow closer to the children I teach, knowing their parents is as important to me."

Patrick's gaze stopped on Pete and he straightened up, as he was slouching in the seat. "We've never seen each other before," Patrick told him. "How old are you, Pete?"

Pete tried to not let anxiety get at him as he nodded. "I'm thirty."

"Do you have any kids besides Bronx?"

"Yeah, I have a two year old named Saint." He grinned just thinking about the young kid; he was probably sleeping or being fed by his babysitter, Hayley.

"Nice. You seem... oddly familiar. Like I know you."

"Well, I'm the author of 'Gray' and 'The Boy With The Thorn At His Side'."

"So you're the Pete Wentz?" the curly-haired man interrupted loudly, his eyes widened. "I'm your number one fan!"

Pete laughed nervously as he scribbled down his signature on a piece of paper the man had with him. "I'm glad you like my books," he told the man. "What's your name?"

"I'm Joe, Joe Trohman." The man— Joe— grinned, and Pete smiled too. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Has Bronx talked about my daughter, Ruby?"

"He has, I think. He says she's cute."

"Aw, he has a crush!" Joe coed, and Pete laughed softly. "But Ruby thinks he's a loudmouth. She thinks he needs to pay more attention in class."

"Well, I guess that's true. He likes reading, but he's not one to pay attention in class."

"She's a total nerd, whiz kid, whatever you call it. I don't think they'd get along very well if they talked."

Pete sighed and shrugged. "Anyway," Patrick said, and Pete's attention immediately turned to him. "We have a school dance with the middle school next to us next Tuesday," he told them, and everyone raised their eyebrows. "They can go with whoever they want, be it a girl with a boy, a boy with a boy or a girl with a girl."

A woman that seemed to be in her fourties raised one shaved eyebrow. "You support that gay bullshit?" she said nonchalantly, and Patrick frowned. "You'll be a bad influence on Alexander, Mr. Stumph. He can't see gays doing their shit."

"They're literally six years old, Ms. Smith," Patrick told her. "They can go with a friend. Haven't you ever danced with a friend?" he seemed troubled, though, and Pete thought that he definitely did support that, as Ms. Smith had said, gay bullshit.

"I haven't, because that's gay. Girls and boys only, Mr. Stumph. Does this school even approve of it?"

Patrick seemed really troubled now. "They support it, Ms. Smith, and you have to learn there's no reason to hate on sexualities. I'm pansexual myself, and if you want to take your kid out of this school because of this, be my fucking guest." He was fuming, and he was frowning.

Pete sighed. He wasn't out as bi to anyone, and he didn't want to cause more trouble. He had only dated girls before— two of them gave him his kids. A girl named Ashlee got pregnant with Bronx while Meagan, his most recent ex, had Saint. But knowing he did have a chance with Patrick, the cute, sort of angry and defensive teacher, relaxed him. He didn't want to fall for a straight guy like he always did.

"I'm leaving," Ms. Smith announced as she got out. The bystanders sighed and looked around as Patrick just raised an eyebrow and opened the door.

"Be safe on your way out," Patrick said, sarcasm dripping from his voice almost tangibly. Ms. Smith closed the door behind her shut open and they heard her footsteps sound more and more far away until they couldn't be heard at all.

"Bronx has told me about her kid, Alexander," Pete told Joe, who was sitting next to him. "He says he seems like an asshole, and that he called a kid in 2nd grade a fag."

"That's awful! I hate homophobic parents, how they pass on those ideas to their children. I hope he realizes gay people aren't the problem when he's older."

"I know," Pete sighed. "I guess he won't be coming to the school anymore, so it's a good riddance."

"I guess," Joe said, shrugging.

"Sorry about that," Patrick said, licking his lips nervously. "Does anybody else have a problem with gay people?" when nobody said anything, he smiled and nodded. "Good. After that... minor nuisance, if you may, let's continue."

The rest of the conference went on slowly, talking about the dance and what should the kids wear. Pete agreed with himself that he should get Bronx formal attire, maybe just a suit with a tie or something. It was from six pm to eight, and Pete could guess the kids would like it. He also hoped people could see same-gender dance couples and that there'd be no trouble like there was with Ms. Smith.

The conference finally ended after a tortuous hour, and everyone left while Pete stayed. He wanted to get Patrick's number, and maybe Joe's too. They both seemed equally cool and he wanted to be their friend. When Joe was leaving, he got up.

"Hey! Joe!" he called, and Joe turned around with a raised eyebrow but also a look of hope on his face. "Do you wanna keep in contact? You seem cool."

"Sure!" Joe said cheerfully. "You want my phone number?" he inquired and Pete nodded eagerly. He took a paper from his pocket and scribbled down some numbers. "Here you go, Pete. I hope we grow closer! I have to go, though. See ya!"

"See you!" Pete said, waving good bye as Patrick cleaned his desk and put his backpack on him.

"What're you waiitng for?" Patrick asked when he saw Pete wasn't moving or leaving, and Pete felt blush creep at his cheeks. He knew it was probably creepy to ask for Patrick's number right away.

He decided without a second thought that he'd get the teacher's number other day, on other conference. "Uh, nothing," he lied. Patrick flashed him a smile and he felt his heart melt as he nodded shyly and left.

He came home at eight thirty pm. He heard Saint's crying and he sighed as he opened the front door. Hayley was bottlefeeding the younger kid, and Saint slowly fell silent again. "Hey, Hayley, I'm back," he waved quietly.

"You're blushing. You found a cute girl?" Hayley teased, and Pete blushed even harder, if that was even possible. "Or cute guy?" she tried. "What way do you lean, Mr. Wentz?"

"Both?"

"You're bi?"

"Yeah," Pete nodded. "But, a cute guy, yes. Two cute guys. I'm pretty sure one's married, though. I saw his ring."

"What about the other one?"

Pete sighed and sat down on his couch, taking Saint out of the crib and putting him on his lap, stroking the young boy's hair softly. "He's Bronx's teacher."

"WHAT?" Hayley shouted, and Pete got redder with that. "How cute is he? What's his name? Did you get his number?"

"He's really cute. His name's Patrick. And I didn't. I got the other guy's, though." He sighed dramatically. "Where's Bronx, anyway?"

"He went to sleep at his room," Hayley told him, and when Saint started crying again she shushed him softly, kissing his forehead and giving him a bottle of milk. "Wait." She turned up her nose. "He pooped himself."

"I'll change his diaper," Pete told her. "You can leave, Hayley. Thank you so much for babysitting them." Hayley nodded and she got up, opening the door of the apartment.

She waved goodbye and then left. Pete stroked Saint's hair softly, sighing as he kissed him in the forehead. "I like my son's teacher, Saint," he said, and he sounded helpless. "What the hell am I gonna do?"


	2. Chapter 2

Pete woke up to the sound of Saint crying. He sighed as he got up, only a pair of boxers on, and he went to bottlefeed the young child. Saint fell silent as Pete fed him, until he looked at him with those big puppy eyes Pete couldn't resist. "What's wrong, Saint?"

"Dadda..." Saint mumbled, and Pete smiled as he propped a kiss on his forehead. He loved his children. It was early, almost seven in the morning, and he knew he had to wake Bronx up and tell him about the school dance. He kind of hoped Bronx would go with a friend of his; maybe in a big fuck you to Ms. Smith and her asshole attitude.

He went to Bronx's room— a small bedroom painted sky blue with toys all around it. He prodded his kid with his hand until he opened his eyes and yawned. "What hour is it?" Bronx asked, and Pete smiled fondly.

"It's almost seven. C'mon, get up, big boy," he said, and Bronx nodded as he got up from his bed and Pete left him alone to change. Bronx was pretty independent for his age, that was for sure.

A few minutes later Pete had a bunch of waffles done and Saint had fell asleep on his crib. Pete put two waffles on Bronx's plate and three on his own. He brought them to the small dinning table and in that moment Bronx came out of his room, wearing jeans and a plain black t-shirt.

"So, you got a school dance next Tuesday," he told Bronx, and he almost spit the milk he was drinking. Pete looked at his son with amusement in his eyes as he drank some more milk.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. And you can go with whoever you want."

Bronx blushed. "I could ask Ruby to go with me..." he muttered, his cheeks a cute pink. Pete fluffed up his hair and smiled. "Is that a good idea?" he asked.

"Definitely," Pete said, nodding and smiling. "Good luck with that, little boy," he told him, and he messed up the young boy's hair before getting up. He checked his phone and saw it was seven with forty minutes. "I'll get you to school," he told him.

"Alright," Bronx said as he ended eating his waffles quickly. He put a jacket on and he went to the car, which Pete had already started. "Let's go," he said, grinning. He liked school, a lot. It was nice to be with kids his age.

"Let's go," Pete repeated, and he smiled as he drove Bronx to his school. Soon they were in there, and Pete got up from the car and opened the door of Bronx's seat. "We're here."

They both entered the school and Pete saw that Patrick was waiting for them at the door. "Hey, Mr. Wentz, hey, Bronx," he greeted them quietly. Bronx went away with him, and Pete waved good bye quietly, blood rushing to his cheeks from seeing the teacher again.

Bronx left with that, and Pete sighed as he went home in his car. He got home to the sound of Saint crying, and he changed his diaper and peppered kisses across his face. "Shh," he shushed him softly. "It's alright."

He wished he could care for him like a mother could. Breastfeed him, do all the stuff mothers did. But Ashlee had left him soon after Bronx was born, claiming her and Pete were too different. It took a year for Meagan to leave him after Saint was born, claiming she just wasn't interested in the boy anymore. He was now alone, only with his two kids and a lot of love to give.

He ruffled Saint's hair as he kissed his cheek. "Want milk?" he asked, and when Saint looked at him with his big puppy eyes he couldn't negate him that. He gave him some milk and smiled fondly, glad to have his little family. He just hoped he could have someone to share it with him sometimes.

In his fantasies of dating someone, of moving with them and them taking care of his kids with him, it was always gender neutral and unspecific. But he hated himself for how his daydreaming had took a new form: he kept thinking about Patrick, Patrick taking care of his kids, Patrick kissing him, Patrick loving him.

They had met just once, but he seemed so nice it made him want to just kiss him. He knew the second time he'd met him was close, and that he looked forward to next Tuesday as if it was a holiday.

He couldn't wait to see Patrick again, in all honesty.

-

It finally happened. It was the Tuesday he was waiting for, and it was an hour until he could go to Bronx's school and see Patrick again. He was excited to say the least, and he hoped the best would happen. Bronx, in those days, had actually talked with Ruby and they had become good friends, and soon enough he had asked her to go to the school dance with him. She had accepted the request, and now they'd go to the dance together.

Pete smiled as he checked the hour, he was just thinking about meeting Patrick again and being able to see him and touch him. Maybe if he was feeling daring he could ask him for a dance.

He looked at his clock again and saw it was twenty minutes for it to be six, and he knew he should get going. He waited for Hayley to come to the apartment, and soon enough she had opened the door to his house. "Hey, Mr. Wentz! Sorry for getting here late!"

"It's okay, don't worry, Hayley. Just take care of Saint. We got a school dance and all and I'm going with Bronx."

"Cool! Is he going with one of his classmates?"

"Yeah, with this girl called Ruby," he told her. "He totally has a crush on her," he whispered and he laughed.

"Hey, dad! That's not true!" Bronx complained, and Pete simply put an arm around his neck before going out. "Good bye, Hayley!"

"See you later, kid!" Hayley chirped happily, and she smiled as she started talking with Saint. Pete closed the door behind him and went to the elevator.

"I just find her cute," Bronx muttered, blushing, and Pete laughed and ruffled his hair. "But, let's go. What if she doesn't come?"

"She'll come, don't worry," Pete sighed, and Bronx nodded as they went to the car and Pete started the engine. They soon were in the school, and they got off the car and they went inside.

"Hey, Pete! Good seeing you here!" A man Pete took a second to recognize waved. He then understood it was Joe; he was wearing a suit with a tie and black pants, and he looked pretty darn cute, in Pete's opinion. He noticed the ring around his finger and he couldn't help but sigh; he was married.

"Yeah! Did Ruby tell you she's going with Bronx?"

"Yeah, she told me! She's happy with him. They're cute together," Joe said happily, and Pete smiled. "Let's go to the gym, though; there's where everyone is."

Pete nodded and, with their respective kids taken by the hand, they went to the gym. It was full of parents with their kids, and some kids were closely knit together, holding hands and everything. Pete was glad to see two 3rd grader boys holding hands, and he hoped there wouldn't be any homophobic comments today.

He didn't see Ms. Smith anywhere, and he felt calmness pool at his stomach. He wouldn't have to deal with such an homophobic piece of shit today. Ruby and Bronx hugged each other and Bronx smiled nervously, his dimples showing as he blushed a little bit.

"Let's dance!" he said excitedly, and Ruby rolled her eyes as the music started playing. Just in time, Pete thought as he looked for Patrick until he found him in the back of the gym, talking to a few 1st grader boys.

He saw Ruby and Bronx dance for a few minutes before he went to talk to their teacher. He bumped into some people and said an awkward sorry before continuing his quest to Patrick.

"Hey, teach!" Pete said, blush tinting his cheeks a pale pink. "How are you? The dance's good?"

"Yeah, it is good! There's a few 3rd graders dancing with their same gender, and I'm happy about that."

"I saw! I'm glad people aren't being homophobic pricks, too," Pete chirped happily.

"Yeah!" Patrick nodded. "How's Saint?"

"He's alright. I left him with Hayley, this senior girl who babysits my kids from time to time."

"I've heard about her. Williams, right?"

"Yeah. She's very good with kids."

"I know! everyone talks good about her. She seems nice."

"She is nice. How are you, though?"

"I'm fine! Also, I realized you're one of the few that didn't come with their girlfriend or anything."

"Oh, it's because I'm a single father. My kids have different mothers, in fact."

"Oh! I see," Patrick said, understanding in his (beautiful) blue green eyes. "I don't have kids or anything. I'm single, at that."

Hell yeah, Pete thought. I have even more of a chance now. He didn't mean that he'd tempt him to cheat on his girlfriend slash boyfriend with him if he was dating someone, anyway.

"Yeah," Pete nodded, leaving his thoughts at that. "Today's a pretty good day." He looked around and saw two boys dancing, and that was when he saw a boy with black hair and chocolate eyes look at them both with pure disgust. "That's... Alexander, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid that yes, that's him," Patrick said as he straightened up and sighed nervously. "I think he's calling them fags." Before Pete could say anything he stormed off to the boys with Alexander next to them.

Pete could only follow him as he bumped into even more people and didn't ever apologize as he got to the scene. "You're both fags!" Alexander yelled above the noise of the music, and Pete winced when Patrick started talking to Alexander, the music blasting from the speakers too loud to get what he was saying.

Alexander ended looking at Patrick with anger in his eyes, but he shrugged, turned around and went to get a hot dog at the food place they had installed in the gym. Patrick quickly went over to where Pete was.

"I asked him if they dancing affected him," Patrick told him, and he looked tired. "He looked confused before saying it did because it's against God's law."

"I hate homophobic Christian. I'm Christian myself, but I can't stand people using God as a sort of excuse to be an asshole."

"Yeah. I'm an atheist, actually."

"Cool!" Pete had been an atheist for years, but the birth of Bronx had made him think there was a God. So he understood religious people and not religious people alike. "I was an atheist once, actually."

"Did the miracle of life change that for you?" Patrick asked, and it didn't sound sarcastic or anything. It was rather friendly, a honest question.

"Pretty much," Pete nodded.

"I was taught about God when I was younger, but soon after I did my confirmation I started to wonder: what if it's all not true?" Patrick explained. "Since then I think of myself as an agnostic atheist. We can't prove God's existence."

"Yeah, I know. I still believe."

"That's okay. I don't really care about people's religion. I'm glad you shared it with me, though."

Pete stopped looking at Patrick with these adoring puppy eyes and he turned around, looking for Ruby and Bronx. He found them in the midst of so many middle schoolers and saw them laugh as they danced together to a slow song Pete didn't know the name of.

Bronx bumped on Ruby's foot and she hissed, looking at Bronx with a raised eyebrow. Pete saw Bronx laugh awkwardly and he smiled. He was glad Bronx and his crush were friends now, and that they were there, dancing together.

"Students, get off the dance floor!" the principal announced through the speakers, and everyone stopped dancing and they got off the dance floor quickly. Pete hugged Bronx, who looked really happy, and Joe ruffled Ruby's hair. "It's time for the teachers to dance!"

Patrick and Pete looked at each other with a bit of surprise; Patrick never told them they'd have to dance. "Wanna dance?" Pete sputtered out without a second thought, and then his cheeks were tinted pink.

Expecting distaste or dislike at the idea, he saw genuine surprise. "Yeah, sure," Patrick breathed, and Pete looked so happy as he took Patrick's hands in his and went to the dance floor.

Most dance couples were just teachers with other teachers, so some people looked mildly confused when they saw Pete and Patrick were dancing together. Pete started dancing awkwardly, bumping with other people as he stepped on Patrick's foot.

Patrick hissed in pain. "Sorry!" Pete whispered, and Patrick shook his head as they kept dancing. Pete couldn't believe this was happening, and he was fucking everything up. What if he doesn't like me? What if I'm just another parent of his students?

Patrick and Pete kept dancing breathlessly, moving and bumping on teachers and saying whispered sorry's and being cute. Pete recognized Mr. Hurley dancing with Joe, and he made an 'aww' noise. "Joe is married to Andy," Patrick commented, and Pete raised an eyebrow.

"Who's Andy? Mr. Hurley?" Pete asked, and when Patrick nodded, he looked at him, bewildered. "I thought Ruby was his biological daughter. They're similar."

"No, she is his biological child. From another marriage, with this girl called Marie."

"Oh," Pete nodded in understanding. "That makes more sense."

"Yeah. Ruby looks a lot like him, so it'd be surprising if she wasn't his biological child." Patrick sighed.

"What does Andy teach? Physical Education, right?"

"Yeah, he teaches that. Most people like him, even though he doesn't talk a lot."

"He seems cool. He has a lot of tattoos, too."

"He's straight edge, too, while Joe's a stoner. I think they're a pretty cool couple." Pete laughed at that, and Patrick laughed, too. Pete had almost forgot how angelic Patrick's laugh was. It sounded sky blue and smelled like melted gold.

"I wish I had someone," Pete confided, and Patrick raised an eyebrow. "I mean, preferably a guy, honestly." This is not flirting, he told himself. I'm not flirting with Patrick. You've seen him twice. You can't, Wentz.

"You're... not straight?" Patrick asked.

"I'm bi."

"Cool," Patrick told him.

Pete beamed at him. "Yeah, cool."

They had stopped dancing a long time ago but they were still awkwardly in the dance floor, so they got off it and they saw Ruby and Bronx sitting on the bleachers. "Hey, kids! How's it going?"

"It's all good," Bronx said, smiling widely. He had his hand on Ruby's and he looked really, really happy. "I asked Ruby if she wanted to come to our house. She can, right?"

"Of course, Bronx," Pete told him as he sat next to him and ruffled his hair. "You could bring Bandit too."

"Yeah, maybe. I haven't seen her, though."

"Maybe she didn't wanna come to the dance? Or she didn't have a dance partner."

Bronx shrugged. "I'll try to talk to her tomorrow, at class."

"Alright."

Patrick realized his fingers were still intertwined with Pete's, and he pulled away softly, his cheeks a cute pink. Pete smiled and he knew he didn't have to say anything.

"Patrick?" Pete started.

"Yeah?"

"I want to be your friend," Pete said. "Can you give me... your phone number? Anything?"

"Uh, sure," Patrick nodded. Pete gave him his phone, with the new contact window already on, and Patrick typed his name and phone number quickly. "There you go. Can I have yours too?"

"Yeah, definitely," Pete told him, and he took Patrick's phone, put his name and his number too. He gave his phone back and nodded. "I hope we can talk more."

They heard footsteps and they turned around to see Joe standing with Andy at his side, their hands together. "Hey, Pete! Hadn't seen you!" Joe said, and he sounded so cheerful and glad to see him it made Pete's heart tug.

"Yeah!"

He noticed there was a backpack Joe had took with him and he went to get it. He took two books off it, and Pete recognized them as his books. He grinned as Joe handed him the books and a pen. "Can you please sign them? I keep acting like a fanboy, but please—"

"It's okay," Pete said, laughing softly. He opened the first page of 'Gray' and he scribbled down his signature on it, and then did the same with the other book.

"I'd get one of your verses tattooed if my body wasn't full of tattoos already. There's no space, and I hate hand tattoos."

"Yeah," Pete grinned. "I have a few tattoos myself, but they're pretty lame. I got a friend's face on my calf because of a dare."

"Wow," Andy said. "I have a bunch of tattoos, but none of them are as stupid as that."

"Don't be rude, honey," Joe told him, giving him a peck on the lips, and Pete guessed Andy was rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses. "But, how's it going?" Joe looked at Ruby and smiled. "Did you dance with Bronx?"

"I did!" Ruby chirped happily, and Pete nodded in approval. "He kept stepping on my foot," she told Joe, and he laughed.

"At least he danced with you," Joe told her, and Ruby nodded. "I'm glad you liked it, Ruby. But it's almost eight and it's time to go."

"Is it?" Pete asked, and he checked his phone to see it was 7:50 pm. He sighed. "Alright, it is. We got to go, Bronx." Bronx pouted and Pete ran his fingers through his son's hair. He looked at Patrick. "See you soon."

"See ya," Patrick said, waving good bye as Bronx and Pete left; Joe, Andy and Ruby behind them.

Patrick and Pete shared a last look before they went in their separate ways.

Patrick, atheist, single, teacher, without kids. Pete, Christian, single, writer, with two kids. Pete felt love stir at his heart; he knew he was slowly falling in love with the younger man.

He knew they should get a better friendship first. One thing was clear: he'd ask him out to go to a restaurant on the weekend or something. He wanted to know Patrick better, he wanted to kiss him. But, if Patrick didn't want that, they could be just friends. He'd be happy with that.

He got home and told Hayley to go, that her job was done with as he paid her. She left in silence, and Saint had fell asleep in his crib. He sighed.

He was sure of one thing: he was going to get to know Patrick better.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the course of the week Pete and Patrick had called multiple times, usually for a few minutes during the kids' recess. Pete had got to know Patrick had sound to color synesthesia and that his voice sounded sky blue to him. He also got to know that Patrick's favorite food was his mom's spaghetti with bolognese sauce. They could talk for many minutes, and Pete felt they were getting closer as time passed.

He was having a manic episode as he had forgot to take his meds, his mind too focused on Patrick and his children to pay attention to the time and take his medication when it was needed. He felt on top of the world as he treated his kids well and bought too many things from ebay and amazon. He knew he'd regret it later, but he didn't really care. He knew, too, that he'd crash hard once the manic episode was done and over with, but once again, he didn't really care.

He was tapping his foot to a song on the radio while he wrote poetry. His poetry had taken a shift recently; it wasn't about death and his suicide attempt anymore. It was more... colorful, Patrick would've said. It was more vivid, more real. And it was all about love, about his kids, about Patrick, about Meagan and Ashlee.

Pete felt hopelessly in love with Patrick. He had a soft laugh and soft eyes and he looked at him with so much adoration in his eyes. He doubted Patrick felt the same about him; he probably just saw him as a friend. He expected he did; he didn't think he'd have a guy fall for him, ever.

He hated himself for fantasizing so much about Patrick. About his soft skin, kissing him, making him laugh. Raising Saint and Bronx together. He dreamt of it sometimes, and he woke up with a bitter taste on his mouth.

He decided to call Patrick, ask him if he wanted to go get dinner at some somewhat fancy restaurant. That sounded like a good plan as he dialed Patrick's number and awaited for a response nervously.

"Hey, Pete! What's up?" Patrick said after the fourth ring, and Pete felt himself relax only by hearing Patrick's voice.

"Not much," Pete said. "But I was wondering if you wanted to go get dinner?" It was eight p.m. and Pete felt like it was a good time to do it. He hoped Patrick would accept his offer.

"Yes! Sure," Patrick said, and his excitement made Pete's heart flutter. He smiled fondly.

"Alright! Where do you live?" When Patrick gave him his address, he nodded. "Alright, I'll go get you."

"Alright," Patrick said. Pete could almost feel the smile on the other boy's lips.

He called Hayley, who came to the apartment almost immediately, and he left her with Saint and Bronx. He started his car and he was smiling and humming happily to the beat of the song in the radio. He parked in Patrick's house, and soon he got off the car. He went to the front door and he knocked twice.

Patrick opened the door with an oversized sweater Pete couldn't help to think it wasn't Patrick's, jeans and sneakers. "Hey, Pete! How you doin'?"

"Fine! What about you?" Patrick hugged him as they went to the car and being that close to the teacher made his heart swell. Pete sat on the drivers seat while Patrick sat at his side.

Patrick and him chatted happily about whatever that crossed their minds, until they started to discuss Pete's career as a writer slash poet. It was a touchy subject for him, as he never really thought he had a talent for words, he just wrote.

"I saw you posted a few poems on your blog," Patrick told him, and Pete raised an eyebrow. "They were very... affectionate. Who was it about?" he blushed, probably thinking 'wow why am I asking Pete this personal question?'.

"Uh, no one, really. I just... miss dating someone sometimes."

Patrick smiled, and it was then when Pete parked at the restaurant's parking lot. It was a Spanish one, and both of them liked that kind of food a lot, so Pete hoped Patrick would like it.

"You deserve a boyfriend or girlfriend, Pete, if it'll make you happy," Patrick told him, and Pete smiled.

"You know... I never broke up with my significant others. It was always them." He remembered Mikey, and Ashlee, and Meagan; they all had broken his heart, one by one. Mikey disappeared off his life after their summer fling, Ashlee called quits, Meagan simply left.

Patrick sighed. "After high school, I haven't had anyone," he confided, and it sounded like such an awkward and personal confession Pete could feel Patrick trusted him a lot to say that.

"I was really lonely during high school, but after that I got friends and girlfriends. During college, especially." Pete sighed as he got close to a waiter and asked for a two people table. The waiter said to follow him and they sat at the table. He gave them the menu.

Patrick, soon after, asked for mashed potatoes with beef and Pete asked for sausages with baked potatoes. Their plates were soon there and they ate as they talked.

"So like, I've had a few girlfriends, but they were all during high school. Elisa was one. She was so pretty, man. And she was shorter than me!"

"Someone shorter than you?" Pete snorted, laughing. "How short was she?"

"She was like... five foot two. She was tiny as hell. I could pick her up."

"How tall are you, even?" He looked at Patrick, saw how he sitting was an inch or two shorter than him. "Five foot four?"

"And a half," Patrick said, and Pete nodded. "I'm really small, I know. You're not very tall yourself, either. Five foot six?"

"Yeah. But you're smaller, so," Pete said, grinning, as he kept eating his sausages. "I think I like you," he said without thinking twice, and Patrick gave him a confused look. "As— as a friend," he said, stuttering and blushing.

Patrick thought he was cute. Pete thought the shorter, younger boy was cuter.

"You're blushing and stuttering, Pete," Patrick challenged. "It's obviously not a 'just friends' thing."

"I don't... man, I don't think I'm ready. I don't know you that well. We've known each other for about two weeks. I don't want to rush it."

"When it's okay to date for you? A month after knowing each other?"

"Yeah, m-maybe," Pete said, looking down, his cheeks a pale shade of red. Patrick found him the cutest thing in the world as he flushed and grinned nervously. "I keep stuttering. You're just— so pretty."

Patrick smiled, and he got up from the table at the same time Pete did. "I'll pay," Patrick offered, and Pete gladly accepted as he went to the bathroom quickly.

Patrick asked for how much money he had to pay and he left the dollars in the table, some tips for the waiter in there too. He decided to see what had Pete went to the bathroom for.

He heard muttering as he grew closer, and then he saw Pete looking at the mirror, blush tinting his cheeks red. "Does he like me back? What the fuck?" he whispered, and he looked so troubled but so cute it made Patrick's heart swell. "He's so cute and soft and I want to kiss him, fuck."

"Kiss me, then," Patrick said nonchalantly, and Pete turned around to see the younger boy standing there with a crooked smile and a soft look. "What? Just do it. Kissin' doesn't mean we datin'." How he skipped the g's only made Pete's heart tug. He wanted to kiss him so bad.

He didn't want his first kiss with Patrick to be in a bathroom, but he couldn't wait any longer as he walked towards Patrick. Their fingers intertwined and their lips close together, Pete closed his eyes.

"I think I love you," Pete told him, and before Patrick could answer, he kissed him, putting a hand on his neck to deepen it. Patrick's lips were soft and Pete's were chapped. Patrick sighed into Pete's mouth as they pulled away, Pete's heart swelling at the contact.

"See?" Patrick whispered, his eyes glinting. "Kissin' doesn't mean we datin'."

"So I can kiss you again?" As soon as they shared their first kiss together, Pete knew he wanted more.

"Of course, honey."

He was almost touch starved as he kissed him one, two, three more times, until he went to Patrick's neck and kissed it softly, gaining a soft, breathy moan from the shorter boy.

"I think I love you too," Patrick said when Pete stopped kissing him. "You're... great," Patrick whispered; he was at a loss for words. "You're so great." He let his fingers go, touching his skin, his hair, his neck. "I think I'm in love with you," he admitted with a small smile on his lips.

"What a coincidence! I think I'm in love with you too," Pete said jokingly before kissing him again. "I don't know you that well, though, and I don't wanna fuck this up—"

"Shh, I understand. We should go home, it's late. We can keep this casual, y'know? Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, definitely. We can hang out and everything, go on dates. I hope Bronx doesn't mind."

Patrick laughed breathlessly and Pete smiled before kissing him again, the touch of Patrick's lips against his own simply enchanting.

"I'll drop you at your house," Pete said as they got away from the restaurant and into the parking lot. They sat at their respective seats— Pete felt like they've done this before, many times.

Pete drove in silence, one hand in the steering wheel and the other on Patrick's. Soon they were at Patrick's house. Pete waved good bye and kissed him before leaving to his house.

It really was late: it was almost ten, and Hayley must be exhausted, dealing with the kids and all. He opened the door to his apartment and he heard the sound of Bronx's snoring, and he smiled softly.

"Hey, Hayley, I'm back!"

"You look real happy; what happened?"

"I kissed him!"

"The teacher?"

Pete grinned and nodded, and Hayley raised an eyebrow as she ran her fingers through Saint's hair, who was half-asleep on her lap. "Are you two dating now?"

"Not yet. In his own words, kissin' doesn't mean we datin'." He copied Patrick's tone and Hayley rolled her eyes and laughed, shaking her head.

"I'm happy for you two, though."

"We'll be dating in a bit, honestly," Pete said, shrugging. "People are gonna say Patrick's influencing their kids because he likes it up the ass."

"How do you know he's a bottom?" Hayley asked.

"Have you seen him? He's the definition of a chubby twink." He laughed softly at the idea; Patrick didn't have what most people would define as 'standard beauty', but he was beautiful, in Pete's opinion.

"I haven't seen him. Describe him to me."

"He has sideburns. And his hair's this pretty strawberry blonde color. He has the prettiest eyes; they're green and blue and he's pale as hell. He's sort of chubby and his hugs are so good, Hayley."

Hayley laughed breathlessly. "You're so in love."

"I am," Pete nodded, blushing a little bit. "I just love him a lot. He's so great and honest and I kissed him a lot tonight."

"Aww! Are his lips soft?"

"Yeah, definitely." He put his red fringe aside and he laughed as he fell on the sofa. "I love him, I think I love him, Hayley."

"I'm happy for you both, then."

Pete nodded. "You can leave. Thank you for taking care of Bronx and Saint."

"Alright. Good night, Pete. Sleep well."

"You too, Hayley."

Pete went to bed and he dreamt of soft lips and glasses and Patrick's voice, how he explained his voice was sky blue. If Patrick's voice was a color, Pete could say it was pale purple. His favorite.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! thank you for the kudos, the bookmarks and the subscriptions. i appreciate it a lot. 
> 
> id love to hear what you all think about this fic!! please leave comments if you like it.

Patrick was really in love with the single father. He liked his smile, his hair, his chapped lips. He was simply amazing, and he was glad he had found him. The only thing that worried him was when they'd go serious, when they really started dating. He could almost see Alexander calling him a faggot behind his back and Ms. Smith storming out of the classroom again because he was in a gay relationship.

He decided the next conference should be in a few months, and he wasn't excited to hear the reactions to his brand new relationship. He didn't know what the school would be doing in a few months— December was coming near them, and Christmas was one of his favorite holidays. He hoped he could make something great for it; maybe a Secret Santa or something. Though 1st graders weren't the best at gift giving, he knew he could make something out of it.

He was cleaning the classroom a few minutes before class when he heard a loud knock on the door. He raised an eyebrow and he raised it even more when he saw in the window that it was no one but Pete. He left the chalk on his desk and went to open the door.

"Patrick!" Pete breathed. "Have you seen Bronx? He wasn't in the house when I woke up, so I guessed he would have gone to school early, but I asked the bus driver and he didn't come!" Pete sounded so panicy it made Patrick want to hug him. He did so, hugging him and kissing him gently.

"Shh, it'll be alright," he said. "I haven't seen him. Did you search in your house well?"

"I— I don't know... I'm worried. What if he got kidnapped? What if he's being tortured?" he was panicking once again and he tried to count to ten, shaky breaths between every number. "One." Shaky breath. "Two." Shaky breath. "Fuck, I can't do this. Fuck."

Patrick took his hand in his and squeezed. "Check your house, alright? Maybe he didn't wanna come to school so he hid somewhere," he suggested. "I used to do that."

Pete drew in another long breath and nodded, turning around. "I'll go get him. He's alright." Pete couldn't see him, but Patrick grinned and nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly before opening the door and leaving.

"Check beneath his bed!" Patrick called before the man left.

Okay, you got this, Pete. He's alright, there's no reason to worry. He's just in the house, he just didn't wanna go to school. Pete counted to ten in his head and he went to his car, starting the engine and the tires screeching. He soon was at his apartment complex. He went in the elevator, tapping his foot nervously to the music, and when it got to his floor he got out too fast.

He went to his apartment and opened the door. He looked for Bronx everywhere, from the closet to his own closet. Then he remembered Patrick's words: look beneath his bed. He nodded and he laid on his side on the floor.

He saw the kid, his big eyes staring at him. "Bronx! I was so worried!" Pete said, and the small boy got out of the space between his bed and the floor reluctantly. "You didn't want to go to school?"

"Yeah..." Bronx trailed off, looking down. "I'm sorry, daddy."

"It's okay. Don't ever do that again, big boy," Pete said soothingly, and Bronx pulled him in for a hug. "I even went to your school to see if you were there. Patrick said to check beneath your bed and guess where I find you!"

Bronx's cheeks turned a pale pink and he smiled nervously. "I won't have to go to school, right?" he asked, a bit of hope on his voice.

"No, you got to. Unless there's an important reason, then I might let you stay."

Bronx's smile didn't really met his eyes when he shook his head and smiled. "No, it's nothing important. Let's go, daddy."

They soon were at the school's parking lot, and Pete opened Bronx's door, who left to his school after kissing his dad goodbye. Pete sighed, relieved, as he turned on his phone and went to Whatsapp. 'Found him beneath his bed. Thank u :* <3' he wrote, and he sent it to Patrick.

Patrick answered about forty five minutes later, only with some kissing emojis and a blue heart. 'My favorite colors blue, yknow. since i heard ur voice it is'.

Pete blushed cherry red. 'ur voice would probably be pale purple. i love pale purple and i love u so.'

'thats gay peter'

'im gay pattycakes', he answered, sending a purple heart emoji immediately after. He smiled at the nickname he had put for Patrick, Pattycakes. It was pretty cute, in his opinion. 'did i ever tell you my names like royalty shit'.

Patrick took some forty minutes to answer, and Pete guessed it was because he got class with either Bronx or with the middle schoolers he taught music to. 'no? whats yr full name'

'peter lewis kingston wentz, the third. its a mouthful and i h8 it.'

'youre a best selling author and yet you use h8 n u. what a boyfriend i have.' he followed it by the two hearts emoji. 'you wanna go out after i finish work??'

'YES!!!!' Pete answered excitedly, grinning widely. He knew he'd probably be out for many hours, and he knew he'd have to call Hayley to take care of his children. At the moment he had Saint on his lap, and he was giving him milk with a hand and texting Patrick with the other. He was a pro at multitasking like this.

'alright!! wanna go to the prehistoric museum? yknow, dinosaurs and shit?'

'YES. boy im a sucker for dinosaurs. i was obsessed w/ them when i was younger.'

'I LOVE DINOSAURS!!!!'

'GOOD!!' Pete grinned, his teeth showing on his smile. "I'm going to the prehistoric museum with the love of my life, Saint! Hayley will take care of you, alright?"

Saint pouted and Pete kissed him. He checked the hour: it was barely two in the afternoon and Patrick stayed at the school until seven in the afternoon. He'd have to wait some hours, but he knew it was gonna be so worth it.

Pete went to take a shower and he stayed there for a bit, enjoying the hot water and thinking about his boyfriend. He was so perfect. He couldn't wait to kiss him again and touch him and, hell, maybe make out with him. He knew it sounded ridiculous to be excited about making out, especially considering he was thirty, but he knew he didn't want to make their relationship sex-based. At least not after just two weeks of knowing each other.

He loved Patrick so much, he didn't want to hurt him or do anything too extreme with him. He wanted to make love to him, not just fuck, you know? He stopped thinking about it— and definitely put the thought of Patrick shirtless away from his mind— as he turned the water off and got out of the bathtub, putting a towel around his waist.

He dryed himself profusely and ended putting his best clothes; a sleeveless black t-shirt, an also sleeveless leather jacket and skinny jeans, plus some shoes that weren't sneakers.

"How do I look, Saint?" he said, not expecting a response. He turned up his nose at the smell and he knew Saint had pooped himself. He changed his diaper quickly and put him in his crib, shushing and kissing him. "It's okay, kiddo." He checked the hour: it was five in the afternoon. He still had two hours to spend with his kids.

Bronx had come home at three, but he didn't talk too much or anything. He was usually loud and not this quiet, and it had started to worry Pete a bit. Bronx seemed to have locked himself up on his room, and Pete knew it'd be no use to try getting him out.

He decided he should make some dinner before leaving them with Hayley. He made spaghetti with bolognese sauce and he quickly finished and put it on a plastic plate, leaving it in the fridge. He checked the hour. It was six.

He called Hayley and she answered after the third ring. "Hey, Hayley? Can you come over? I got a date."

"Alright! With the teacher?"

"The very same."

"Are you two going serious now?"

"I don't know," Pete admitted, looking down, and Hayley laughed breathlessly.

"Alright, alright, I'll go." She hung up with that, and half an hour later she was in Pete's apartment. "Sorry! The traffic was really bad," she explained.

"It's okay, don't worry," Pete said and the teenager nodded and smiled as she went to run her fingers through Saint's hair softly. "I'll get going now."

'hey trick! im ready. do i go to ur house?' he was happy he could be so casual with the teacher, and he loved him a lot.

'not rly, meet me at the front door of the museum! ill be there.'

'alright!' he suspended his phone with that and he went to his car and started the engine.

He was in the prehistoric museum in a matter of minutes— even though, as Hayley had said, the traffic was really bad. He got there and saw Patrick waiting for him at the front door. He was wearing an argyle sweater and jeans and sneakers, and he looked pretty darn cute, in Pete's honest opinion.

"It's too cold for sleeveless everything, Pete," Patrick told him as they hurried to the museum, and Pete payed for the fee without a second thought. He huffed. "It's really cold."

"It's only November, Pattycakes," Pete said as he passed a hand across his shirt. "I look pretty good though, don't I?"

"That fucking ego of yours," Patrick breathed before kissing him, shutting him up effectively. Patrick bit into the older man's bottom lip and Pete sighed into his mouth, and Patrick smirked before pulling away. "Let's go see the dinosaurs."

"Of course you're more interested in the dinosaurs than making out with me," Pete joked, and Patrick shoved him aside with a playful grin that made Pete's heart melt. He looked for Patrick's hand and he intertwined his fingers with Pete's, and Pete smiled softly before they went to see the dinosaurs.

There was a full skeleton of a Tyrannosaur Rex. "I think it's the second bigger one that walks in two feet," Patrick told him. "The first one's the Gigantosaurus, which is Argentinian."

"Cool. Didn't in one of the prehistoric periods everything was so much bigger? Like. The bugs, the animals. That was before dinosaurs, though."

"Yeah. I don't remember what was it called, though." Patrick sighed. "I used to know a lot about dinosaurs. Especially when I was young."

"You're saying you're old?"

"I'm twenty five, Pete, please."

Pete snorted. "And I'm thirty. I'm an old man compared to you."

"It's just five years!" Patrick complained, and Pete simply pushed him to the wall and kissed him wetly. Patrick let out a soft groan when Pete was the one to bite his lip this time, and Patrick blushed as Pete deepened the kiss with a hand in the back of his neck.

"You're beautiful, Patrick Stumph."

"You're an idiot, Pete Wentz," Patrick said, but it sounded as adoring as Pete had said right before. He kissed him and sighed into his mouth. "Let's keep looking at dinosaurs."

"I'm more interested in looking at you," Pete flirted rather badly, and Patrick shoved him aside and grinned wildly.

"You're a terrible flirt, you knew that?"

"Yeah, I knew. You love me anyways."

"Damn right," Patrick said before kissing him again. He loved him so much, he was so special to him, and he was so glad he could say Pete was his boyfriend.

"Also, have you noticed anything... weird about Bronx lately?" Pete said, shuffling with the collar of his shirt nervously.

"What do you mean?"

"He's acting really weird. He doesn't wanna talk, he doesn't wanna eat. I'd love to say it's the hormones but he's six."

"I... don't know." The conversation had went from playful and funny to serious, but neither of them minded. "I've heard Alexander's being mean to some of his classmates, but I never got names. Maybe it's that."

"I should ask him, but he locks himself up in his room and I know he doesn't wanna talk."

"I'll ask Ruby if she has seen anything. They're close friends, so she should know." Patrick sighed and took off his trucker hat to pass his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just worried."

"How's Saint doing, though?"

"He's fine. Hayley's with him right now."

"Is Hayley the only babysitter you hire?"

"Yeah. I've known her since Saint was born. She was fifteen at the time and she already worked as a babysitter then. I think her family's not in their best economical situation right now, so she needs the money."

"Yeah, yeah," Patrick snapped his fingers before growing closer to the writer and then kissing him softly. "I love you," he whispered, and he almost felt the stares of the other people in the museum.

"I love you more, angel," Pete said before kissing him back, not too rough. They shared a few more kisses before Patrick looked at his watch. "What hour is it?" he asked him.

"It's almost nine. I think I got to go."

"Yeah, it's getting late." Pete had an idea and he grinned before he picked him up, Bridal style, and Patrick yelled.

"What on Earth do you think you're doing?"

"Bein' romantic and shit," Pete said before kissing him sweetly, their lips connecting as he let Patrick get up from his arms. "I love you."

"I love you too," Patrick said and squeezed his hand softly. "See you soon," Patrick said as he got in his car.

"See ya," Pete said, smiling widely, as he got in his own car and started the engine. He drove to the apartment complex and then went to the elevator, smiling like an idiot the whole time.

He opened the door and saw Hayley with a bag of chips on her hands and Saint asleep on his crib. "Hey, Hayley." She was watching the TV. "What're you watching?" he asked her.

"Stranger Things," she said, still focused on the TV. "It's great. Have you watched it?"

"Yeah, I have. It's really good."

"I love Eleven."

"Jonathan is a great character."

"He's a stalker," Hayley argued.

"He was too invested on his photography, that's all."

Hayley shrugged. "Whatever."

"Has Bronx come out of his room?" he asked.

"No, he hasn't. Only to eat. He didn't talk much even then. Is he alright?"

"I don't actually know, Hayley. We— me and Patrick— suspect it's Alexander, one of his classmates. He seems to be making fun of some kids."

"That's awful! Maybe he's picking on him because he doesn't have a mother figure."

"Probably," Pete felt anger wash over him at the idea; Alexander was a shitty kid with a shitty mom. He hoped he could fix this situation. Or rather, that Patrick could fix it. He was Bronx's teacher, after all.

Pete sighed. "I don't know what to do, Hayley. I don't want him to be bullied."

"I was bullied once too, y'know?" Hayley started, and Pete looked at her, raising his eyebrows. "They made fun of me for whatever reason. Because I liked bands from the 60's, because my parents were addicts... anything they'd find out about me, they laughed at it." Hayley sighed and pulled her hair behind her ear. "I was almost driven to the point of suicide because of that," she sighed. "But a good support system made me go through it."

Pete looked at her, startled. Hayley was so strong, had such an incredible willpower, and she was simply stunningly confident. Thinking that once she was bullied was incredible.

"He needs support, Pete. That's all he needs to go through it. Remember that." She looked down and got up, leaving the chips on the table. "Now, if you excuse me, I'll go home." She seemed a little troubled by admitting this key part of her past.

"You're really strong for enduring that, Hayley," Pete said as she opened the door, and she turned around to look at him, a smile on her face.

"I'm not strong. I just had what I needed to survive, Pete, and that's support." With that, she turned around and closed the door behind her.

Pete sighed. He didn't want to believe Bronx was being bullied for the fact that he was a single father, and he wanted to prove he could support his sons just like a mom could.

He went to get coffee and he heard his phone vibrate. He turned it on and saw it was a message from Patrick. He opened Whatsapp to see it and he saw it was only one.

'hey, pete? so i have something to tell you.'

'u can tell me anything, angel.'

'remember when i said im pansexual in the conference?'

'yeah?' Pete wondered if Patrick had changed his mind, if he was actually straight and this had all been a joke or something. He knew Patrick wouldn't play him like that, but a part of him thought that could happen.

'im not. im panromantic asexual. im asexual, pete.'

Pete's eyes widened. He looked at his messages for a few seconds, trying to assimilate it. Patrick was asexual? God, would sex make him uncomfortable?

'please dont think im broken or that if you fuck me ill become pansexual. im ace. please.'

'i dont think ur broken, babe. its okay. are u sex repulsed?'

'not really. wouldnt engage in it, though.'

'thats alright. thank u for telling me, pattycakes.'

'no problem. good night. i love you'

'gn. lov u 2'

Pete sighed, feeling dirty as he took a sip of his coffee. He didn't want to think about Patrick that way anymore. He didn't mind not having sex; he hadn't since Meagan and him broke up, actually.

Pete decided to push those thoughts aside. The next day was Friday, so Bronx had only half day. Pete hoped he could talk about Bronx's situation and whether he was being bullied or not. He wanted to know and make sure the boy was okay.

He went to bed and he took a long time in falling asleep, his mind traveling to his past thoughts of Patrick in sexual situations. He loved him, and him being asexual wouldn't change that.

He fell asleep and he dreamt of the color gray in a city skyline; Chicago's skyline. He dreamt of the word fag being written in his walls. And he dreamt of Patrick, with his lips and his eyes and his skin.

He slept peacefully, at last.


	5. Chapter 5

Pete woke up at four in the morning with a stirring feeling in his chest. He got up and he checked on Saint, who was sleeping on his crib peacefully. He ran his thumb across Saint's cheek, and the baby let out a soft cry. "It's okay, little one," Pete whispered as he decided to leave his son alone.

He heard his phone buzz and he raised an eyebrow. Who was texting him this late? Or this early, whatever. 'Pete?' he read, and he checked the contact: it was Patrick.

'yes?'

'i cant sleep'

Pete bit his lip. Patrick had a schedule, unlike him, and not sleeping could fuck up his performance work wise a lot. 'listen to rain or fire. that helps me sleep,' he said carefully. He was an insomniac himself and he always tried to listen to rain noises to calm down and be well rested.

'ill try. thank you, pete.'

'np. lov u.'

'love you too.'

He saw how Patrick's status went from 'online' to 'last seen 4:04 am' and he sighed as he went back to bed, putting his alarm for seven on.

He woke up at seven with one minute, the alarm ringing in his ears. He hit the button to stop it and he sighed. It was a Friday, and he knew he had to talk about Bronx's situation in school soon. He put some clothes on, not paying much mind to what they were, and he woke up Bronx.

Bronx woke up reluctantly and he went to put his clothes on, Pete leaving to make breakfast. He made some waffles and he left them on the dinning table, giving a piece of one to Saint. "Yum," he said when Saint swallowed, his teeth still not very firm. He ruffled his son's hair as his other son sat on the table and started eating waffles.

He brought Bronx to school and he left with him just because he knew Patrick would be there. He didn't want to make their relationship public just yet, so they just smiled at each other and shook each other's hands.

"See you, Bronx!"

"See you, dad!"

Bronx left like that, Patrick at his side. Pete smiled, fond of both of them, and he went to his car to go back home. He got home and he decided he should keep writing this new book he was working on. He opened his writing software and started writing without a doubt in the world.

-

Patrick was worried. Bronx was acting really off; he didn't say any jokes during class and he seemed too concentrated on his schoolwork, and by that he meant he didn't even talk to Ruby anymore. It was like he had his own personal bubble, and that no one could trespass it.

He decided he'd take the matter of Bronx's attitude into his own hands; he wanted to see if something happened during recess, even if that meant skipping his breakfast. He was also really tired because he had got like two hours of sleep, but that was life, wasn't it?

It started ringing and all the kids got up excitedly, fighting to get off the classroom first. Patrick payed no mind to them, his gaze focused on Bronx. He looked tired and with bags on his eyes as he got up and went to the hallway.

"Your dad is a fag!" he heard the clear voice of Alexander ring through the hallway, and Patrick got up from his desk chair real quick. He went outside the classroom and remained silent.

"Shut up!"

"My mom saw him with Mr. Stumph in a Spanish restaurant!" Patrick's blood turned to ice with those words. Ms. Smith had seen them? "They were having a date!"

"That's not true!" Bronx yelled. "SHUT UP!" he shouted and he took Alexander by the collar of his shirt. "That's not true!"

"It is!" Alexander said, a wicked grin on his face. "You wanna give me proof he isn't a fag? To have you that fairy must have had a woman with him— but that was just an act, isn't it?" Alexander's grin only got wider, and Bronx had stopped grabbing him by the collar. "There's a good reason they left him, Bronx. And that reason is that he's a fag." He gave him a crooked smile before turning around and leaving Bronx alone with Patrick

Bronx turned around and saw Patrick standing there, his eyes wide open. "Mr. Stumph!" Bronx said immediately, his eyes widening. "Is that true? You were in a date with my dad?" he looked worried out of his mind, and Patrick knew he had to be honest with this kid.

"I was, kiddo," Patrick told him, and Bronx sighed. "But that doesn't matter. What matters is what Alexander is doing. Do you know what's what he's doing called?"

"...no?" Bronx said after tortous seconds of silence.

"Bullying. He's bullying you, Bronx, and we'll end it here and now. Alright, kid?"

"Alright," Bronx breathed. He looked really affected by Alexander's words and he seemed weaker and frail. "You're dating my dad?" he asked.

"I am, kid," Patrick confided. "But that's not a bad thing. Alexander just thinks it is because he thinks God doesn't approve of it."

"Does he?" Bronx asked. His elementary school wasn't religious in any form, but Pete had talked about God enough times to understand it as best as a six year old could. "Does he approve of it?"

"I think he loves all of us equally. No matter if we're gay or not, cis or not. I don't believe in him myself, but I think that's my point of view."

"Alright," Bronx nodded, and Patrick ruffled the little kid's hair softly. "You'll talk to him?" he asked. "Alexander?"

"Yeah, I will. Don't worry, kiddo; if he doesn't listen, I'll get him suspended."

Patrick knew the kids had music next with another teacher, as he only taught middle schoolers that subject. He knew he'd had to call Alexander and explain him how it was wrong to do this.

He waited until recess was over and he went to the music classroom and knocked on the door. Mr. Armstrong opened the door. "Can I borrow Alexander?" he asked in a whisper, eyeing the six year old.

"Smith?" Mr. Armstrong asked. Patrick nodded and Mr. Armstrong turned around. "Alexander Smith, Mr. Stumph needs you," he announced, and Alexander raised an eyebrow before following Patrick to the teachers room.

"Alexander, I saw what you did to Bronx," Patrick said, straight to the point. Alexander bit his lip.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alexander said.

"I was there when you called Mr. Wentz a fag and a fairy, Alexander," Patrick challenged, and Alexander tensed up. "It's your mother who tells you being gay is wrong, isn't it?"

"It is wrong!" Alexander shouted. "God doesn't approve of it. It's wrong and it's sick."

"Point proven," Patrick muttered under his breath, and Alexander half closed his eyes. "You don't have to poke fun at Bronx just because his dad's single."

"His dad isn't single," Alexander snarled. "He's dating you." Goddamn it, he got me, Patrick thought, planning his next word. He didn't know what he would have to say to make Alexander not bully the other boy.

"Okay, you're right. But you don't have to bully him for it. It's simply something you disagree with." Before Alexander could talk, he continued. "If you disliked berries and someone liked them, would you make fun of them because of it?"

"No?" Alexander said, his tone a question. "It's not the same, though. I don't just disagree with being gay; it's a sin."

"We can't stop you from believing this, Alexander, but you need to stop making fun of Bronx because of it."

Alexander turned up his nose. "Alright, Mr. Stumph," he said nonchalantly, and Patrick smiled as they got up and he opened the door to let Alexander go back to class.

The next hour Patrick heard hushed whispers that he hoped weren't originated by Alexander and how Patrick had revealed he was dating Bronx's father. "He's dating him?" he heard Ruby whisper, and his blood turned to ice with just those words.

"He is," that was Alexander's voice now as he opened the door and everyone straightened up, the last bits of the conversation dying down. Patrick sighed. He was really tired and he was glad he only had half day today, as this was the last class of the day before he could leave and rest.

Patrick left his stuff on the desk and he continued the class normally, only hearing hushed murmurs about him dating Pete. He didn't mind, even though he knew next parent teacher conference would be a mess because of this.

He got home at three p.m. and he quickly turned on his phone, knowing he had to let Pete know, or hell maybe even invite him to his house. He hadn't gone to Pete's yet and he hadn't gone to his, so it could be an interesting afternoon.

'Hey, Pete. do you care to bring your ass n bronxs over here?'

'why'

'youll know. just come, please.'

'does it have 2 do with bronxs situation in school'

'yeah'

'alright.'

Ten minutes later Pete was at his door with Bronx by the hand. Patrick opened the door and gave Pete a quick peck on the lips and Pete looked at him, bewildered. "The whole school knows, Pete, there's no problem." Pete seemed to get less tense with that. "How you doing, kid?" he asked, looking at Bronx.

"Okay, I guess," Bronx said, shrugging. "What did you say to Alexander?" he seemed a little worried, and it was clear he didn't fear his bully, but rather just loathed him.

"That being gay isn't wrong, but he didn't listen to it a lot." Patrick, Bronx and Pete sat on the sofa. Pete noticed Patrick's house was remarkably small, and that everything felt cramped, unlike his apartment, which was a lot more comfortable. He sighed and threw his head back. "I told him to stop calling Pete a fag and a fairy."

"He called me that?" Pete interrupted, and Patrick kissed him in response, and then nodded shyly. "Well, zoinks. I knew his mom was gross, but I didn't expect him to be this gross."

"I know, he sucks." Patrick put his head on Pete's shoulder and sighed. "And I said I couldn't change his beliefs, but that he needed to stop making fun of Bronx because of it."

"And now everyone knows you're dating my dad," Bronx said, pouting. "You're a pretty cool teacher, though, so I guess I can excuse you." Patrick laughed breathlessly at that, and Pete giggled too.

"Well, aren't we the perfect couple?" Pete said as he rested his head on Patrick's shoulder, his red hair tickling Patrick's neck. Patrick shoved him aside and he laughed. Bronx looked at them with amusement in his eyes.

"But, was that why you were so down lately? Was it Alexander's fault?"

"Yeah... I'm sorry, dad. I must've worried you."

"You did, kiddo. But it doesn't matter."

"Alright," Bronx said, sighing. "At least I don't have to put up with Alexander for two days, as it's the weekend."

"I wanted to invite Patrick to the house, if that's okay, Bronx?" Pete suggested, and when Bronx nodded approvingly he grinned widely. "Good! He'll come tomorrow, then. I'm excited."

Patrick kissed him and Bronx made a disgusted face, which Pete and Patrick laughed at after.

-

It was Saturday, and Patrick was more than ready to go to Pete's house. He knew it'd probably be filled with Saint's cries and Bronx trying to do his homework, but he couldn't help but want to know Pete's personal space. He was also interested in knowing his writing space, and maybe giving him some advice on how to pay attention to small details in his space to concentrate more.

Patrick went to the apartment complex Pete lived in and he went to the floor Pete lived in, and he knocked on the door three times. Pete opened it and he saw he had his hair half straightened, and his cheeks flushed pink when he realized Patrick was looking at his curly hair. "You came too early!" he sputtered. "Let me finish my hair."

"Alright," Patrick said, amusement in his voice as he went to Pete's room. His room was the most cramped by far, as he had his desk there plus a bookshelf full of different books, from the Harry Potter series to Romeo and Juliet. Patrick touched the books, most of them dusty, and he smiled when he saw kids' books neatly put in the last part of the bookshelf. He imagined reading these to Bronx and Saint and he smiled. He knew it was way too soon, but he wanted to be their dad, too.

"Okay, I finished!" he heard Pete shout, and he got out of his room. "You were in my room?" he questioned quietly, and Patrick nodded and laughed.

"Yeah, I was."

"What a perv," Pete said jokingly as he pushed him aside. He got closer to him and kissed his lips, once, twice. He was so infatuated with the shorter, younger boy: his lips were softer than clouds.

"Cerulean," Patrick said for sudden, and Pete looked at him weirdly. "Your voice. It's so pretty." He blushed and he passed his fingers through Pete's hair. "Your lips... they're like the G note in piano. God, you're stunning." Patrick sighed and then he kissed the older man wetly, their lips crashing together and tongues playing.

"I love y—" Pete breathed, only to be interrupted by a kiss. "I love you, Trick. I love you so much."

"I love you more," Patrick whispered as he ran his fingernails across the other man's arms. "I'm so glad to be your boyfriend." He kissed his neck, his cheeks. He was so soft and stunning and he wanted to kiss him all over.

Pete breathed happily, feeling in the clouds. "I've never felt this strongly about anyone before, Trick," he confided, and Patrick raised an eyebrow. "You're like... the realest person I've dated. You feel real compared to the rest. I love you."

"I love you, too," Patrick said, sighing as he kissed his lips one more time. "Also, uh, did I ever tell you I have ADHD?"

"You didn't. Did I ever tell you I'm bipolar?" When Patrick shook his head, Pete kissed him. "Guess we can be not normal with each other."

"I take meds, though."

"I take meds, too. I forget sometimes."

"That's alright, babe; you know I'll love you anyways."

Pete kissed him again as response.


	6. Chapter 6

Patrick got up from his desk chair and he raised an eyebrow, checking for any noise that said there were kids fighting. He put his books in place and closed his laptop, sighing as he left the classroom. He heard distant yelling, covered by the sound of footsteps and kids running. He glanced at the hallway and saw Bronx's distinctive blonde hair and he saw Alexander, too.

His instinct of protecting the child got the best of him as he stormed closer to the two boys. "It's not my fault your dad's gay! He's disgusting! Accept it!" he heard Alexander yell, and Bronx covered his face with his hands as he started crying. "The fairy's crying!" Alexander chuckled darkly, and it made Patrick's blood boil.

"STOP!" he yelled, and Alexander's gaze shot back at him, and Bronx dryed his tears with his sleeves as he looked at him. "Alexander, we talked about this," he said, trying to seem understanding, but he felt dizzy from anger and he wanted to just suspend Alexander and make him understand it wasn't okay.

"Yeah, yeah," Alexander said, shrugging carelessly. "Who cares? His dad is gay, anyway. I'm just telling him the truth."

"You're tormenting him because Mr. Wentz is gay, Alexander," Patrick hissed through gritted teeth. "You're bullying him," he snapped. Alexander opened his mouth to talk, but Patrick turned around and he didn't say anything. "Now, if you excuse me, can you come to the secretary's office with me?"

Alexander huffed but hesitantly went downstairs with Patrick. Patrick was done with Alexander, his asshole attitude and his homophobia. He deserved to be suspended, especially after he had been so hateful. He knew that, when Alexander grew up, he could perform hate crimes. He could see it clearly in the kid's future, and it scared him.

"Laura?" Patrick said when he knocked on the secretary's office and she opened the door. She was a trans woman, but not many people knew, as she had started transitioning since a young age. "Hey, Laura, I need to suspend this kid right here," he said, pointing at Alexander.

"What did he do?" Laura said. She seemed uncaring and sort of apathetic, but that was what she acted as a secretary. In reality, she wasn't as aloof like she seemed; Patrick was a good friend of hers, and he knew for sure she was a good person.

"He keeps making fun of Bronx Wentz because his dad is dating— well— me," he said awkwardly, and he laughed.

"Wait, you're dating his dad?" Laura asked. "Mr. Wentz?" she blinked a few times. "Pete Wentz? The Pete Wentz, Patrick?" Alexander seemed bored out of his mind because of this discussion, but there was also an air of disgust in his eyes.

"Yeah, the very same," Patrick said, chuckling. "But, let's focus, okay? I want... a week off for this kid. If he doesn't understand and keeps tormenting— bullying— Bronx, we'll see what happens."

Laura nodded, acknowledging Patrick's talk as she shifted her attention into the paper she was writing for Alexander's suspension. Alexander played with a loose thread in his jeans and he looked careless.

"You don't care you're getting suspended, do you?" Patrick asked, and Alexander looked up at him. "Your mom probably thinks you did the right thing, doesn't she? She'll be more mad at us than at you."

"My dad will be mad," Alexander said, shrugging. "He supports gays. I don't know why mom got married to him."

"Mm-hm," Patrick said, shrugging too. "Today's your last day at school for a week. You'll be back next Monday," he told him, and Alexander nodded. There was no emotion behind his eyes, and it started to worry Patrick a bit. How was he so... careless? So cold, almost?

"Alright," Alexander said, nodding, as he got up from the chair. "Recess is almost over, isn't it?" he looked at Laura, who was just watching their conversation unfold quietly.

Laura looked at her clock and she nodded. "You can go to class," she told him, and Alexander nodded as he stormed out of the secretary's office. Patrick shot her an apologetic look. "It doesn't matter, 'Trick," Laura said, nodding, and Patrick went behind the kid.

Patrick went to the classroom they had class in next: Math. He hoped he didn't hear much shit talking from Alexander, even though it was bound to happen. Alexander sat a few seats behind Bronx— he should change that.

He heard the school bell ring as everyone entered the classroom. He looked for Alexander and saw him in the same desk of always. "Hey, kid. Can you trade places with Bandit? I'd appreciate that."

Alexander shot him a judgemental look as he went to Bandit's seat, told her about the desk change, and she nodded as she went to her new seat. Patrick clapped his hands together as he strained to hear any conversation. Alexander was oddly quiet— maybe knowing his actions had consequences had toned his attitude down.

"He suspended me!" he heard him say after he started the class, and he tried for his amusement to not get to his face. "I didn't do anything!" he complained, and Patrick tried his best to not laugh hysterically. He didn't do anything? Sure, and he was a dragon.

"Don't you notice anything weird about Ms. Grace?" he heard one of the kids sitting next to Alexander say. "Like... she has an Adam's apple." Patrick almost froze in place but he kept writing on the chalkboard. He didn't need to hear rumors about Laura's gender. He thought they had died down a long time ago, but as soon as she stopped HRT it was bound to happen.

"Oh my God," Alexander breathed, and Patrick felt sort of bad for eavesdropping on the kids he was teaching, but he just wanted to know. "I can't believe she's a tranny. Or should I say he?" Patrick felt anger pool at his stomach and he chewed on his lip as he started talking about basic addition.

"She doesn't look like a boy, though," the other boy added. "It's just her Adam's apple. Have you ever seen a picture of her as a child?" he asked in a whisper.

"I haven't."

"Probably because she looked like a boy! She probably burned them all. What a tranny." It was kind of incredible for Patrick to hear six year olds being this mean, with ideas like that so pervaded in their minds.

"Now, if you stop with rumors about Ms. Grace," Patrick said, almost hissing. The boy and Alexander straightened up, trying to seem innocent, and he raised his eyebrows. "Mr. Smith, what's two plus three?" he asked, pointing his chalk at the boy.

"Five," Alexander said.

"What's three minus two, Mr. Carter?" he asked, pointing at the kid who was making the comments about Laura.

Mr. Carter seemed to not be having it as he stared blankly at the chalkboard, not seeming to understand the question. Patrick turned around and drew three apples, and then the sign minus and two apples.

"If you have three apples, and you eat two, how many do you have left?" Even though he, at first, just wanted to fuck with Mr. Carter, he knew he was also a teacher and that he needed to teach them things like this.

"O-One," Mr. Carter said as Alexander got off him, obviously giving him the answer. Patrick huffed and he cleaned the chalkboard from the drawing of the apples.

"So," Patrick said, sighing. "Let's continue."

The class continued boringly, Alexander and Mr. Carter's chitchat dying down when they realized Patrick was listening to every single one of their conversations. Soon the school bell rang for lunch. "Go have lunch, kids!" Patrick called as everyone stormed out of the classroom.

He went downstairs, not minding the whole lot of kids leaving in the stairs too. He just wanted to let Laura know rumors about her being trans had sparked up again. He hated having to hide one of their staff's gender like that, but he knew kids weren't used to seeing trans people. Living, real trans people, at that.

He knocked on the door of the secretary's office and waited, tapping his foot to the song he had stuck in his mind. Laura opened the door after what felt like years.

"What's up, Patrick?" Laura asked, and Patrick sat at the chair in front of hers. "Rumors again?" she said, always seeming to know what the problem was.

"Yeah, of you," Patrick nodded, and Laura gulped. She looked a bit scared, but Patrick squeezed her hand in a friendly manner. "Alexander Smith and Thomas Carter were calling you a tranny."

"Well, since I stopped going on E it was bound to happen..." Laura started, smiling nervously. She looked worried, and Patrick knew he had to stop the rumors, even if that meant confirming the fact Laura was trans.

"I know, but it's not fair. You don't deserve to have rumors started about you just because you're trans."

"I'll have to go on HRT again?" Laura asked to nobody, and Patrick sighed.

"If you want to. But the kids already noticed, Laura," Patrick said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Laura muttered. "I guess I'll go in HRT again. If it means the rumors will stop then..." she breathed in and out. Her eyes were full of determination. "Then I'll do it," she said, and she sounded so sure of herself it made Patrick wish he had that confidence.

"Alright, but please don't let it get to you."

"In a lighter note," Laura said, clicking a pen. "Since when are you dating Pete?"

"A few days, really," Patrick said, giggling nervously. "He's so great. You'd love him."

"You know I'm a lesbian, Trick," Laura joked teasingly, and Patrick shook his head.

"I meant in the friend way, Lau." Laura laughed and Patrick laughed too, and Laura looked a lot calmer now as the atmosphere of the conversation got calmer and lighter.

"Whatever," Laura said, snorting. "But... have you gone on dates with him? Is he a good kisser?"

"You want all the details!" Patrick laughed. "But, yeah, we went to a Spanish restaurant and then we went to a dinosaur museum," he told her, and Laura smiled and nodded, urging him to continue. "His lips are always chapped. But he's such a great kisser! And I told him I'm asexual and he took it real well."

"He wasn't upset or anything?"

"No, he didn't say he could fix me like Elisa said once," he nodded, and Laura smiled. "How long, though? He's a grown ass man, he'll need sex."

"We don't need sex, per se," Laura said, shrugging. "And you can always make the relationship open so he can have hookups or somethin'."

"Yeah, yeah. That's a good idea. Maybe I'll do that." Patrick smiled and he fixed his hair. "I also planned on shaving my sideburns? What do you think about that?"

"That sounds nice! They're starting to look bad, if I'm being honest," Laura admitted, laughing awkwardly. "Was that rude?"

"It wasn't, don't worry," Patrick soothed. "I should probably do that. I also wanted to get my hair cut because it's a friggin' mess."

"You're twenty-five, man, don't come at me saying 'frigging'."

Patrick laughed, and it was then when the school bell rang and he heard the stomping around of the kids as they went back to their classrooms. "I got to go!" he said. "See ya, Lau!"

"See you, Trick!"

Patrick left like that to the Science classroom, and he greeted his students as he started the class boringly enough. The rest of the day went by fast as he ended the last class and went home.

He left his things at his house before going to the barbershop and asking to get his hair cut and shave his sideburns. The barber did so in a matter of what felt like ages, and soon they were done and over with.

Patrick smiled as he looked at himself in the mirror the barber handed him; he looked a lot better like this. "Thanks!" he said as he handed him the payment and he went off the barbershop to his house.

He opened his laptop and turned it on, to then open Skype. He saw Pete was online and he grinned giddily as he texted him there. 'hey! wanna videocall?' he asked.

'yes!' was the immediate response, and Patrick was grinning like an idiot as he clicked the video call button.

After the second ring Pete answered, and he opened his eyes wide when he saw Patrick's new hair cut. "What do you think?" Patrick asked hopefully, and Pete was at a loss for words.

"I think it's beautiful, darling!" he said, smiling widely, and it made Patrick's heart flutter. "I'm glad you shaved your sideburns. You look better without them."

"Yeah, I know, I left them there for way too long," he said, smiling nervously. "But. I suspended Alexander because he kept pestering Bronx."

"Yeah! Bronx told me; he was delighted."

"I'm glad! I hope Alexander understands what he's doing is wrong."

"Yeah, it's real messed up."

They fell silent for a few minutes before Patrick straightened and remembered the rumors about Laura. "So, Bronx probably hasn't talked to you about her but our secretary, Ms. Grace, is trans."

"There were rumors about her gender?" Pete asked, seeming to understand the topic right away, and Patrick couldn't help but grin and nod.

"Yeah! She went off HRT and so now her Adam's apple is noticeable. Thomas, one of Alexander's friends, and Alexander himself were calling her a tranny. She's a friend of mine, so I was pretty mad."

"Well, yikes. That's awful."

"She said she's going on HRT again just to stop the rumors. She's very afraid of transphobia, which is understandable."

"Good. I hope it goes well for her."

"Yeah," Patrick nodded. "What have you done today, though, babe?" he asked hopefully, hoping his boyfriend would have an interesting anecdote or anything to tell him. He loved to hear his voice.

"Well, I wrote a new poem. I posted it on my blog— it's really bad, in my opinion."

"I bet it isn't bad!" Patrick argued as he opened his browser and typed the address of Pete's blog.

The first post was titled 'Tiffany Blews.'

"I want to sing these sometimes... but I like, don't know what rhythm you'd want for them, or anything, so I just—"

"Do it. Sing them."

"However I want?" Patrick inquired.

Pete smiled and nodded. "However you want."

He cleared his throat as he scanned the poetry, looking for a rhythm, how to sing it. "I'm not a crybaby, I'm _the_ crybaby," he started.

The rest of the afternoon was lazy, Patrick singing Pete's poems and Pete thoroughly enjoying Patrick's singing voice.

"Good night," Patrick said when he realized it was late. "I'm going to bed."

"Good night, angel."

Patrick grinned. "Fucking gay," he said.

Pete grinned even more wide than Patrick and, God, Patrick swore he was so, so in love.


	7. Chapter 7

It had been weeks since Patrick and Pete started dating, and they were very happy together. On the weekends they went to restaurants or to pet stores to watch cute animals. Patrick woke up early that Saturday, and he checked the date, only to remember it was their one month anniversary.

He felt excitement pool at his heart: he wanted to take Pete and his children on a picnic date. That would be cute and gay. He opened the curtains and he saw it was sunny and with almost no clouds outside. He smiled widely as he opened Whatsapp and decided to text Pete. Or rather, call him.

He tapped the call option and he waited until the fourth ring for Pete to answer. "What's up, Trick?" he said from the other side of the phone, his voice heavy with sleep.

"It's a special day today!" Patrick chirped, and he laughed when he realized Pete probably didn't remember. "Our one month anniversary, dude! Did you forget?"

"Shit! Shit! I did forget," Pete exclaimed, and he laughed then shortly after. "I'm sorry! But, what did you want to do?"

"Go on a picnic date maybe?" Patrick suggested, hoping Pete would like the idea. He knew there were picnic tables at the place he was thinking of going to, and he knew he could bring his bread and some other things.

"Yeah! That sounds perfect— I have to call Hayley, thou—"

"No, with your kids, dummy!" Patrick said, and Pete made an 'uh?' sound that Patrick found simply adorable. "Yeah, with Bronx and Saint!"

"A-Alright..." Pete muttered. "I guess you want to go to that park, don't you?" They had gone to that park other times before this one, and they both liked it a lot. It was peaceful and nice and Patrick was sure the kids would enjoy it, too.

"Yeah! We can be there by noon. What d'ya think?"

"I think it's a perfect idea! I'll be there at noon. I love you," Pete said, and then he blew a kiss to the screen. Patrick, hearing it, giggled as he cut the call.

Patrick was feeling really confident with his not so brand new haircut but it was still really nice. He put a beanie on and he smiled softly as he went to his car when he saw it was about to be noon.

He drove to the park, the food on a bag at his side, and he saw Pete there, with Saint on his arms, he smiled. He parked and he got out of the car with the bag on his hands. He propped a kiss on Pete's lips and Bronx winced.

"Let's go to a picnic table!" Patrick chirped excitedly. He was almost like a small kid, not a care in the world, but he didn't mind as he kissed Patrick a second time. Pete and Bronx followed him to a four-people picnic table. Bronx sat in front of Patrick while Pete and Patrick sat together, Saint on Pete's lap.

Patrick took his bag and put the apple pie he had made early that day and Pete's eyes opened wide. "You made pie!" he exclaimed.

"I did!" Patrick said, laughing softly. "It's apple pie; I know you like it, so I thought 'why not?'. A good idea, right?"

"Definitely!" Pete said, his eyes full of love as he leaned in to kiss Patrick, one of his hands still on Saint. "I love you." Bronx felt mostly like a third-wheel right now, but he didn't mind seeing his dad this happy, crinkling eyes and soft smiles and all.

"I got peanut butter and jelly sandwiches too! You can give Saint a little bit, maybe?" he said as he took out the sandwiches out of the bag. He handed one to Bronx, who was dying of hunger as he started eating gladly. "How is it?"

"It's perfect! Thank you, Patrick!" Pete had told him he could call his dad's boyfriend Patrick, there was no need to say Mr. Stumph or anything. It wasn't like Patrick minded.

Patrick gave a little bit of a sandwich to Saint, who chewed before swallowing it. "Yum," Pete muttered, threading his fingers through Saint's hair. He took a sandwich too and he started eating, enjoying the taste. He looked at Patrick, who was also eating. It probably wasn't his best angle, but how his hair fell on his forehead and how soft he was, it made him only fall in love with him more.

When Patrick stopped eating, Pete got closer to him and kissed him sweetly, sighing into his mouth as he deepened the kiss. "Let's not make out in front of the children, okay?" Patrick said, and Pete laughed breathlessly at that.

"Alright, Petey, alright."

"Did you just call me Petey?"

"I did," Patrick said, a glint of teasing in his eyes, and Pete pushed him aside, playfulness gleaming in his gaze. Patrick laughed as he fell to the ground, Pete falling on top of him. "I love you, my gay nugget," Patrick said.

"Je t'aime, mon petit chou," Pete said in rusty French, and Patrick threw his head back to laugh as he pushed Pete aside.

"Did you just call me 'your little cabbage'?" he questioned, and Pete laughed as he nodded. "Well, then. Te amo, mi pequeña manzana."

"Manzana... is apple, isn't it?" Pete said as he got off the younger man, helping him get up from the grass. "I love you, my little apple?" he translated. "Why apple?"

"Because of your red streaks, dummy," Patrick said softly as he kissed him, and Pete sighed into his mouth and he smiled against his lips. "Y'know I love you, right?"

"I do know that. Did you know I love you more?" he said, moving his thumb across Patrick's cheek, smiling at this closeup of Patrick. He kissed him, their noses bumping, and he smiled.

"I love you the most."

It was then when Saint started crying, and Pete straightened up as he looked for the diapers he had in his purse. He took one out and then he changed Saint's dirty diaper quickly. He left the dirty diaper in a plastic bag, planning to leave it in the first trash can they'd find.

Pete took out a milk bottle and started to bottlefeed the baby, and with that Saint calmed down slowly, his breathing slowing down and tears not flowing from his eyes. "It's okay, little one," Pete told him, kissing his forehead as his breathing evened out.

Pete had stopped calming down the child when he felt a heavy weight against him, and he fell to the grass with a loud thump. He looked up only to see Patrick on top of him, with his honey hair and his bluish green eyes and those stupidly perfect lips. His glasses dangled in the bridge of his nose, and he looked absolutely gorgeous.

Patrick laughed as he let himself fall on top of Pete. He kissed Pete's neck as he crawled to be closer to his lips. He left a soft kiss on his jaw and his cheek. He loved him, he loved him so much. Pete looked gorgeous like this, too; his black hair with red streaks looked soft and his whiskey eyes were gleaming. "It's always shades of blue, you know?" Patrick said.

"My voice?" Pete murmured.

"Yeah," Patrick nodded. "It's cerulean usually, but when it's... softer, like when you were talking to Saint— it's pastel blue. When it's low, when you're mad, it's dark blue. Navy, you could say."

Pete smiled and Patrick kissed him. Bronx watched curiously from his seat in the picnic table. He had never seen romantic interaction, as his dad was single before Patrick and he and his classmates were too young to date anybody.

"What's up with the colors?" Bronx asked, and Patrick noticed he was talking to them as he got up, Pete doing so after.

"Well, I have a condition called synesthesia, that makes me relate sounds to color immediately."

"Oh," Bronx said, understanding in his big eyes. "Syne— what was it called?" he sounded a bit concerned, and Patrick wondered if he was thinking he was experiencing something similar. He remembered telling his mom the color of her voice, thinking it was a normal thing, and how she had brought him to a therapist almost immediately.

"Synesthesia," Patrick said.

"I think I— I think I have it too," Bronx said flatly. "Dad's voice is light blue for me, too. Yours is—" he took a moment to look for the right word. "— orange? Like a sunset."

"Well, my idea was pretty off," Pete commented, and Patrick shoved him aside and laughed. "But the color Bronx says is pretty pretty, too."

"Pretty pretty?"

"Pretty pretty," Pete nodded, and Patrick chuckled as he kissed him, almost shutting him up. "I love you," Pete said sweetly, and Patrick felt something stir at his heart. He also loved him, so so much.

"Oh, shoot!" Patrick exclaimed for sudden. "The apple pie! We forgot to eat it!"

"Oh, right!" Pete said, at first he had thought it was a more serious matter but Patrick was just worried because of the goddamn apple pie.

Patrick opened the plastic box he put the apple pie in and cut it in three pieces; he handed one to Bronx, the other to Pete and he left the other for himself. "If you're still hungry you can eat what's left, honey."

"Alright," Pete and Bronx muttered at the same time, and Bronx looked at his dad, grinning. They started eating and Pete hummed in approval. "It's delicious!" he said, and Patrick blushed. "You're an amazing cook, Pattycakes."

"Thank you, thank you," Patrick said as he bumped his nose with Pete's before kissing him, his lips tasting of apple pie and peanut butter. Patrick went back to eating as the rest kept doing so.

Pete gave Saint a bit of the apple pie that was left and he chewed on it before swallowing. "How is it, Saint?" Saint smiled at the flavor, and Pete ruffled his hair as he smiled, fond of his youngest son.

"It's really good," Bronx said, and Patrick smiled as he nodded. "Thank you for the pie, Patrick!"

"No problem, kiddo. I'm glad you like it."

Pete checked the hour and saw it was two in the afternoon. It felt a lot later, it wasn't like he minded being the whole afternoon with Patrick and his kids anyway. He felt like he could tell Patrick anything, like even if it was just a month it felt like years. He felt like they could last, more than he lasted with Meagan and Ashlee.

Patrick smiled as they ended eating their respective pieces of apple pie, and he carefully put what was left in his bag. He kissed Pete, enjoying the feeling of his lips against his. "Can I sleep at your house tonight? We can have a game night or somethin'."

"Yeah! Yes, I'd love that," Pete said, his cheeks turning a bit pink. He was so cute, fuck, Patrick thought before kissing him again. "You're perfect," Pete breathed, and Patrick grinned wildly.

"Let's go," Patrick said. Pete took Saint on his arms and Bronx followed suit, Patrick going to his car and Pete going to his. They went to Pete's apartment complex and they parked there.

Patrick went out of his car first, and he rushed to the elevator, Pete hurrying behind him. He got in right before the elevator closed, and he sighed in relief. "You almost left me behind," he breathed as Saint sobbed quietly. He kissed his forehead and he started to calm down.

"I'm sorry," Patrick said as he gave him a quick peck on the lips, ignoring Saint's big eyes staring at him, almost telling him to not touch his dad. They got off the elevator and they went to Pete's apartment.

Patrick and Pete went to the older man's room almost in silent connection, and Patrick closed the door behind them. Patrick started kissing Pete wetly, Pete's tongue exploring the younger man's mouth as he deepened the kiss, a hand on the back of Patrick's neck.

"Je t'adore," Pete whispered. Patrick smacked him lightly in the arm, laughing. "What? French's the language of love."

"You're a goddamn nerd," Patrick murmured before kissing him again, their lips moving. "You're an idiot, Pete."

"I'm your idiot, Patrick," Pete responded before he kissed Patrick's jaw, making him let out a soft groan. "You're so beautiful, you're so pretty and good and— I love you so much."

"I love you too, Pete. I have never loved somebody as much."

Pete smiled before kissing him again, and then he remembered about the game night idea. "Wait, weren't we gonna play games and shit."

"Oh, yeah."

The rest of the day passed with them playing games and Bronx participating sometimes, and they enjoyed it thoroughly until it was late and they were both real tired.

Patrick scrambled to Pete's bed and he took all of the space. Pete poked his back until he groaned and looked up. "What?" he said.

"I got to sleep too, honey."

"Ugh. Your bed's too small." Patrick moved to the corner and he let Pete get beneath the sheets. Patrick felt Pete turn around and he turned around too, to then feel Pete's warmth close to him.

They were spooning and Pete was leaving soft kisses across his neck and Patrick thought he was in heaven itself as he fell asleep.

Pete kissed him good night and fell asleep, too.


End file.
